When You're Negotiating With the Wrong Person

The Situation

Two months ago, my wife and I closed on a condo. After years in single-family homes, we decided to simplify and return to the kind of building we'd both grown up in, her in Montreal, me in New York City. Whether our dog Sadie shares our enthusiasm for this new chapter remains to be seen.

On closing day, our realtor suggested changing the front door lock, just standard practice since you never know how many spare keys previous owners handed out over the years. We already knew which one we wanted: a digital lock that matched the building's existing hardware in finish, handle style, and color.

Since the building is governed by an HOA, and since I serve on the board of another one, I decided to ask permission before installing it rather than ask forgiveness after. I sent the management company a link to the lock, thanked them in advance, and expected the matter closed within a day or two.

Instead, I was told my lock wasn't approved.

That didn't bother me. I assumed there was an approved model and asked for the manufacturer and model number. That's when things got strange. Rather than a specification, I was told that if I wanted to see the approved lock, I should walk down the hallway and look at Unit 302's door.

I laughed. Not a written spec, not a model number, just go look at your neighbor's door.

As I write this, two months have passed since we closed, we move in next week, and I still don't have approval to change my front door lock. Somewhere along the way, a simple home improvement project quietly became my next negotiation.

The Turn

Once I realized I was in a negotiation, I stopped thinking about locks and started thinking about interests.

One of the first things I teach in the AGENT framework is that we all have default ways of dealing with conflict. Sometimes we're a Turtle and avoid it. Sometimes we're a Puppy Dog and accommodate just to keep the peace. Sometimes we're a Lion and compete to win. And when both the issue and the relationship matter, we try to become an AGENT and collaborate.

As I weighed my options, all three animals showed up at once.

The Turtle's instinct was simplest: forget it, leave the old lock on the door. But one of our real interests was giving family and contractors temporary digital access, so that solved nothing, it just postponed the problem.

The Puppy Dog had a cleaner answer: install the approved lock and move on. This quickly became my BATNA. Not a terrible outcome, just more expensive, more holes drilled in a brand new door and frame, and security features the rest of the building didn't seem to warrant.

The Lion's idea had the most appeal in the moment: it's my door, install what I want and let the HOA deal with it. There's something satisfying about that kind of certainty. But having already asked permission, reversing course felt like starting life in a new community by picking a fight I'd invited.

That left one option. I needed to be an AGENT.

So instead of arguing positions, I got curious. I asked Kayla, the community manager, what problem the approved lock solved that mine didn't. It was a genuine question, I assumed there was an interest I hadn't found yet.

Her answer gave me one immediately. The HOA wanted every owner's physical key on file, so that in an emergency, like a burst pipe, someone could get in fast before it damaged neighboring units. Entirely reasonable. The interesting part was that my lock also came with physical keys, so it addressed that interest just as well.

When I pointed that out, nothing changed. "You still have to use the approved lock."

I asked how my lock could get approved. Kayla explained it would need to go before the Board at their next meeting. My first reaction wasn't generous: the Board has to vote on my front door lock?

Then I caught myself. Having served on a board myself, I understood exactly what they were trying to prevent. If every owner picked their own brand, finish, and style, the hallway would end up looking like a hardware convention. Their position suddenly made a lot more sense.

So I agreed to wait.

Weeks passed with no update. As moving day got closer, I followed up. Kayla apologized, the Board meeting had been cancelled for lack of quorum. Kafka would have appreciated the irony.

Then it hit me. I wasn't negotiating with the Board at all. I was negotiating with someone who couldn't actually make the decision. The real parties to the conflict weren't even in the room.

The Shift

That realization changed everything.

A few minutes of research got me the contact information for the Board President. We'd never met, but I could empathize with his role. I introduced myself as an excited new owner hoping to resolve a minor issue before move-in.

Normally, before sending anything tied to an important conflict, I run it past my AGENT AI Coach. It's one of my favorite habits, it often catches emotional undertones I miss myself. This time my enthusiasm got ahead of me. I hit send first and checked afterward.

The score came back 8.5 out of 10. Fair. My frustration showed more than I'd realized, and I hadn't leaned into curiosity quite enough. I smiled reading it anyway, because the real lesson wasn't the score. A couple of years ago, that email probably would have scored much lower. Negotiating, like anything else, improves with intentional practice.

About five minutes later, my phone rang. It was the Board President.

He welcomed me to the community, thanked me for trying to work within the process, and said he'd personally champion my request at the next meeting. He also admitted that in my position, he probably wouldn't have asked permission in the first place, and that the effort had earned me some credibility before we'd even met. He gave me a glimpse behind the curtain too: like any volunteer board, they had different personalities and priorities, and some of my delay had little to do with the lock and a lot to do with the realities of governance.

By the time we hung up, this no longer felt like me versus the HOA. It felt like a group of people trying to solve a problem from different angles.

AGENT in Action

What Made the Difference

Looking back, the breakthrough wasn't uncovering the HOA's interests or even reaching the Board President directly. It was recognizing I'd been negotiating with someone who couldn't say yes. Kayla wasn't blocking my request, she was doing her job within the authority she'd been given. Once the actual decision-maker entered the conversation, everything became collaborative. We still don't know how the story ends, but we're finally having the right conversation.

AGENT, Briefly Mapped

AWARE: I recognized that what looked like a disagreement over a lock was actually a negotiation.

GROUND: My interest wasn't just getting the lock I wanted, it was installing a practical digital lock while starting life in a new community on good terms. My BATNA was always the approved lock if it came to that.

EMPATHIZE: Curiosity surfaced interests I hadn't considered. Once I understood what the HOA was protecting, their position made sense.

NEGOTIATE: The turning point was realizing the real decision-makers weren't in the room, and inviting them in, respectfully, changed everything.

TIE: The Board still hasn't decided. I'm comfortable with that. Whichever lock ends up on my door, we're starting in this community with a stronger relationship than we'd have otherwise.

Takeaway: Before you spend time crafting a better argument, make sure you're having the conversation with someone who has the authority to say yes.

🛠 Try This Before Your Next Conflict

Are you negotiating with the actual decision-maker, or with someone simply passing messages?

Before defending your position, ask what interests the other person might be protecting.

If your preferred outcome doesn't happen, do you already know your BATNA, and can you live with it?

Closing Reflection

We move into our new condo next week without a digital lock, and I'm fine with that. Maybe the Board approves the lock I chose. Maybe they don't, and I install the approved one instead. Either way, I'll have a digital lock soon enough.

The bigger win already happened. This small conflict reminded me that successful negotiating isn't measured only by getting your way. It's measured by leaving the relationship stronger than you found it, understanding the other side a little better, and staying curious long enough to discover the conflict was never really about the lock.

See you in the win-win moments this week!

Sam